Every camera in the room locked on him like a firing squad, lenses pointed with the relentless precision of expectation.

Seconds earlier, the room had been alive with a cacophony of soundbites, journalists adjusting their microphones, aides whispering into earpieces, and the faint buzz of phones recording and tweeting.

Yet in an instant, that chaos dissolved. The room fell into a silence so precise and complete it felt surgical, as if the very air had been suctioned clean of sound.

Omar’s words faltered mid-sentence, the familiar cadence of rehearsed conviction interrupted by the pause.

Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez’s posture, usually composed and deliberate, flickered for just a heartbeat—enough for the stillness to imprint itself like an indelible mark on the space.

Every subtle motion was magnified; every blink, every intake of breath, became part of the rhythm of anticipation that seemed to pulse through the chamber. Continue reading…